'But I hope she will let me have my own things. A great many of them are altogether my own. I know there's a law that a woman may have her own things, even though her husband has--done what poor Dobbs did. And Ithink she was hard upon me about the mourning. They never do mind giving credit for such things as that, and though there is a bill due to Mrs Morell now, she has had a deal of Dobbs's money.' Clara promised her that she would have mourning to her heart's content. 'I will see to that myself,' she said.
Presently there was a knock at the door, and the discreet head-servant beckoned Clara out of the room. 'You are not going away,' said Mrs Broughton. Clara promised her that she would not go without coming back again. 'He will be here soon, I suppose, and perhaps you had better see him; though, for the matter of that, perhaps you had better not, because he is so much cut up about poor Dobbs.' The servant had come to tell Clara that the 'he' in question was at the present moment waiting for her below stairs.
The first words which passed between Dalrymple and Clara had reference to the widow. He told her what he had learned in the City--that Broughton's property had never been great, and that his personal liabilities at the time of his death were supposed to be small. But he had fallen lately altogether into the hands of Musselboro, who, though penniless himself in the way of capital, was backed by the money of Mrs Van Siever. There was not doubt that Broughton had destroyed himself in the manner told by Musselboro, but the opinion in the City was that he had done so rather through the effects of drink than because of his losses. As to the widow, Dalrymple thought that Mrs Van Siever, or nominally, perhaps, Musselboro, might be induced to settle an annuity on her, or she would give up everything quietly. 'Doubt whether your mother is not responsible for everything that Broughton owed when he died--for everything, that is, in the way of business; and if so, Mrs Broughton will certainly have a claim on the estate.' It occurred to Dalrymple once or twice that he was talking to Clara about Mrs Van Siever as though he and Clara were more closely bound together than were Clara and her mother; but Clara seemed to take this in good part, and was as solicitous as was he himself in the manner of Mrs Broughton's interest.
Then the discreet head-servant knocked and told them that Mrs Broughton was very anxious to see Mr Dalrymple, but that Miss Van Siever was on no account to go away. She was up, and in her dressing-gown, and had gone into the sitting-room. 'I will come directly,' said Dalrymple, and the discreet head-servant retired.
'Clara,' said Conway, 'I do not know when I may have another chance of asking for an answer to my question. You heard my question?'
'Yes, I heard it.'
'And will you answer it?'
'If you wish it, I will.'
'Of course I wish it. You understand what I said upon the door-step yesterday?'
'I don't think much of that; men say those things so often. What you said before was serious, I suppose?'
'Serious! Heavens! Do you think that I am joking?'
'Mamma wants me to marry Mr Musselboro.'
'He is a vulgar brute. It would be impossible.'
'It is impossible; but mamma is very obstinate. I have no fortune of my own--not a shilling. She told me today that she would turn me out into the street. She forbade me to come here, thinking I should meet you; but I came, because I had promised Mrs Broughton. I am sure that she will never give me one shilling.'
Dalrymple paused for a moment. It was certainly true that he had regarded Clara Van Siever as an heiress, and had at first been attracted to her because he thought it expedient to marry an heiress. But there had since come something beyond that, and there was perhaps less of regret than most men would have felt as he gave up his golden hopes. He took her into his arms and kissed her, and called her his own. 'Now we understand each other,' he said.
'If you wish it to be so.'
'I do wish it.'
'And I shall tell my mother today that I am engaged to you--unless she refuses to see me. Go to Mrs Broughton now. I feel that we are almost cruel to be thinking of ourselves in this house at such a time.' Upon this Dalrymple went, and Clara Van Siever was left to her reflections.
She had never before had a lover. She had never had even a friend whom she loved and trusted. Her life had been passed at school till she was nearly twenty, and since then had been vainly endeavouring to accommodate herself into the absolute power of a man who was nearly a strange to her! But she did love him, as she had never loved anyone else;--and then, on the other side, there was Mr Musselboro!
Dalrymple went upstairs for an hour, and Clara did not see him again before he left the house. It was clear to her, from Mrs Broughton's first words, that Conway had told her what had passed. 'Of course Ishall never seen anything more of either of you now?' said Mrs Broughton.
'I should say that probably you will see a great deal of us both.'
'There are some people,' said Mrs Broughton, 'who can do well for their friends, but can never do well for themselves. I am one of them. I saw at once how great a thing it would be for both of you to bring you two together--especially for you, Clara; and therefore I did it. I may say that I never had it out of my mind for months past. Poor Dobbs misunderstood what I was doing. God knows how far that may have brought about what has happened.'
'Oh, Mrs Broughton!'
'Of course he could not be blind to one thing;--nor was I. I mention it now because it is right, but I shall never, never allude to again. Of course he saw, and I saw, that Conway--was attached to me. Poor Conway meant no harm. I was aware of that. But there was the terrible fact. Iknew at once that the only cure for him was a marriage with some girl he could respect. Admiring you as I do, I immediately resolved on bringing you to together. My dear, I have been successful, and I heartily trust that you may be happier than Maria Broughton.'
Miss Van Siever knew the woman, understood all the facts, and pitying the condition of the wretched creature, bore all this without a word of rebuke. She scorned to put out her strength against one who was in truth so weak.